


Tony's Omnibus Odysseys

by Ytteb



Series: The Bus [1]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-03 02:25:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6592813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ytteb/pseuds/Ytteb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the Season 11 episode Alibi we learned that Tony rides the bus to work. I feel we need to know more about this. Here are some thoughts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo swung his pack on to his back and, slightly furtively, set out down the street until he reached the Metro bus stop. An elderly man arrived at the same time and smiled at him.

"Morning," said the man, "beautiful day, isn't it?"

Tony nodded distractedly as he wondered if he had time to grab a cup of coffee before his ride arrived.

"Waiting for the bus?" asked his new friend.

Tony bit back a sarcastic comment and nodded.

"Bus system in DC is marvellous," said the old man who didn't seem to need any input from Tony.

Tony nodded hopefully.

"So many places to go and places to see. My wife and I used to go everywhere," he said reminiscently, "Joe, she would say. It's a lovely day and we live in the best place in the world, let's go out and enjoy it."

"That's nice," said Tony as he began to realise that all his fears about public transport were coming true.

"That was Daisy," said Joe, "always optimistic, looking for the good in people. She's been gone nearly two years now. I still miss her. But I always feel her with me when I ride the bus. She always liked to sit by the window, you know."

Tony wondered if it would best to hail a cab. Sitting with real people would be bad enough but he drew the line at ghosts.

"That's sad," he said.

"Yes," agreed Joe, "but we had five and a half good years together. Should have been more. We were childhood sweethearts, you know."

Tony looked sceptically at the man who looked as if he must be in his late 70s. How long had his childhood been? Perhaps he had wandered away from some facility for senile seniors. Joe chuckled,

"Don't worry, Son. Daisy and me, well, we had a stupid argument when we were teenagers. Went our separate ways. Both got married. Daisy got divorced and I was widowed. We both moved to DC but didn't know we were both here and 'available'." He prodded Tony in the ribs, " _if you know what I mean?"_

Tony looked at him in something approaching horror.

"And then we met up again," said Joe apparently ignorant of the effect he was having on Tony, "guess where!"

Tony had an epiphany as he found himself empathising with Gibbs' dislike of Abby's penchant for guessing games.

"I don't know," he said weakly. Joe gazed at him expectantly and DiNozzo used his detective skills, "on a bus?"

"On a bus!" agreed Joe, "we could never agree which one it was. I think it was the 90 but she always said it was the 92."

"Oh," said Tony.

"We loved to argue," said Joe, "kept the blood flowing."

"Ah," said Tony.

"So I ride the bus in honour of Daisy," said Joe, "and, well, in the winter it's cheaper than staying at home and putting the heating on."

Tony felt as if he had walked into some daytime soap but was saved from replying by the sight of the bus arriving. Joe jumped on with surprising agility and Tony followed. Joe flashed a card at the driver and Tony stood there with his wallet out.

"Where you going?" asked the driver.

"Uh, Navy Yard."

The driver stared at Tony, waiting for something to happen. Joe nudged Tony,

"Have you got a SmartTrip card?" Tony's blank expression was answer enough. "It's $1.75," he said.

Tony fished out a ten dollar bill and held it out to the driver.

"Exact money only," said the driver.

Tony began to fish in his pockets for change and the driver tapped the steering wheel impatiently.

"Here," said Joe, "have this," and he held out the change.

"I can't take your money," protested Tony.

Sensing an argument about to brew, the driver snatched the money out of Joe's hand and put it in the fare box before shutting the doors and continuing the journey. Joe grabbed Tony's arm and pulled him down the bus.

"Hey, everyone," he called, "beautiful morning, isn't it?"

The passengers seemed to know Joe and many nodded and smiled back.

"Here," said Joe, "take the seat by the window there."

Tony squashed the worry that he might be sitting on Daisy and obeyed.

"Takes a bit of getting used to," said Joe cheerfully, "you going to be taking the bus often?"

"Probably," said Tony, "but I'm looking for a car."

"You need to get a  _card_  first," chuckled Joe, "you don't want to be looking for change all the time. Any it would be a crime to carry too much money around."

Tony looked puzzled.

"Too many coins would ruin the line of that nice suit. Some tailor took a lot of time making that for you."

Tony still looked puzzled.

"I was a tailor," said Joe, "I know clothes."

"Look, Joe," said Tony.

"How did you know my name?" asked Joe.

"You said your wife called you Joe," replied Tony.

"I did? Hey, you're sharp, aren't you?"

"My Boss doesn't always think so," said Tony, "here, take this … for the fare."

"That's ten dollars," said Joe, "that's too much."

"That's OK," said Tony, "thank you for helping me out."

"You need to look after your money, kid. You've got a serious clothing habit to feed, you know. Tell you what, I'll get off at the Navy Yard with you. Show you where to get a card."

"I can't ask you to do that."

"You didn't. I'm volunteering. Hey, why don't you check your emails or something? It's one of the wonders of bus travel. Gives you time back."

Tony realised that he had about twenty minutes before they reached the Navy Yard so decided to take Joe's advice. Joe turned to the woman sitting behind him and greeted her like a long lost friend. Joe was true to his word and shepherded Tony off the bus at the end of the journey and supervised his purchase of a smartcard. He allowed Tony to buy him a coffee and muffin and then waved goodbye happily when Tony went into work.

And so it began …

_Sometime later …_

"Gibbs," said Special Agent Jethro Gibbs as he answered the phone on his desk.

"Front gate here, Special Agent Gibbs. Trevor Webb."

"Trev."

"Uh, something odd here."

Gibbs stood up and prepared to get his weapon out of the drawer. McGee mirrored his actions as he waited to see what was happening.

"What?" asked Gibbs.

"Bus just showed up. Load of passengers got off."

"So? That's normal isn't it?"

"Agent Gibbs. They all want to see Special Agent DiNozzo. They're worried about him. Saying something about giving him an alibi."

"On my way. Keep'em there," ordered Gibbs. "Come on, McGee."

"Where we going, Boss?"

"Front gate. Seems like …"

"Like what, Boss?"

"No idea. It involves DiNozzo, so who knows?"

Tim nodded the wise nod of someone who knew DiNozzo and knew to expect the unexpected.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Tony wasn't altogether surprised when Joe was at the bus stop the next morning. They didn't have time to speak as the bus arrived almost immediately. Joe nodded proudly as Tony presented his Smartcard to pay the fare.

Tony found himself following Joe who, with a sound of delight, made his way to the back of the bus where there was one long seat.

"Makes me feel young again," he said, "all those bus trips. We always wanted to sit on the back seat!"

Memories flooded back for Tony of trips into New York with his Mom who also loved to sit on the back seat.

"This is Martha," said Joe as he took his place next to an elderly woman. "Martha, this is Tony. He works at the Navy Yard. He's new."

"Pleased to meet you, Tony," said Martha, pausing her knitting for a moment to shake his hand. "These are hard times, you know."

"They are?" asked Tony.

"Sure. Lost your car, have you?"

"Yes, it was in an accident. I'm looking round for a new one."

"Good car is like a good woman," said Joe.

"Is it?" asked Tony.

"Oh," said Joe, "I don't know. I thought it sounded good, that's all. I've never had one. Car, I mean. I've had good women. Two, in fact but I've never had a car. Never needed one. Always lived in a city, so no need. And besides, I like …"

"… the bus," finished Tony.

"Sure. What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Have you had a good one?"

"Car? Sure, I've had good cars but I'm not lucky with them."

"And women? What about them?"

Tony hesitated but he could see that Joe was honestly curious, "hmmm, the same I guess. But not lucky with them either."

Martha paused in her knitting and laid a gentle hand on his arm, "Don't worry, sugar. Handsome boy like you – someone'll snap you up, you'll see."

Tony laughed, "well, it's fun trying to find the lucky lady anyway!"

Martha and Joe looked at him with compassion.

"Yup, I know how that feels," said Joe sadly.

"No, really," said Tony, "dating. I love it. It's like my hobby; can't imagine what it would be like to stop."

"OK," said Joe, "if that's your story, you stick to it."

Tony felt uncomfortable with his fellow passengers. He began to suspect they could rival Gibbs for seeing to the core of a person but he didn't want to be rude because they were obviously very caring people. He decided he would probably take a cab the next day or perhaps rent a car but, in the meantime, thought he would enter the spirit of bus travel.

"Haven't sat on the back seat for years," he said in a bid to change the subject.

"Best place to travel," said Joe, playing along. "When I was a kid, my buddies and me, we always raced to the back on the school bus. Threw things at the girls. Well, until hormones kicked in and we wanted to sit by them or roll messages down the aisle to them. Ah, happy days! So, did you used to run to the back of the school bus?"

"Um, no. I went to boarding school," said Tony apologetically, "didn't really go on buses."

"Oh," said Joe, "that's sad."

Tony wasn't sure if it was boarding school or lack of school buses that Joe thought was sad. He decided not to ask.

"My Mom and I used to ride the bus when we went into the city. Into New York. She liked the backseat. She was always happy if it was empty."

"Does she still like to ride on the back seat?" asked Joe.

"No. She died; when I was eight." Tony saw that Joe was going to say something sympathetic so hurried on, "perhaps she liked the back seat because it reminded her of being naughty when she was a kid. Hmmm, never really thought of her as being mischievous." Tony willed the moisture in his eyes to stay put.

"Children can never picture their parents as kids," said Joe, "but I wouldn't be surprised if your Mom was naughty sometimes."

"Why?"

"I reckon you probably take after her," grinned Joe.

Tony smiled in acknowledgement. The bus stopped at that moment and Joe was distracted by the sight of a young woman getting on with a baby in a stroller and a toddler clinging to her hand.

"She's new," said Joe. He looked at her and then looked pointedly at Tony. Tony suppressed a sigh; a rental car was becoming more and more attractive but he dutifully walked down the aisle.

"Can I help?" he asked.

The woman looked at him assessingly and made a poor decision.

"Thank you," she said, "I just need to get my money out. Here, hold Charlie, would you?"

Tony would rather have paid her fare but, instead, accepted the sticky boy who let out a screech of outrage at being offloaded to a stranger. Tony smiled an unsuccessful smile and manoeuvred the stroller into its designated space. His ordeal only lasted a minute or so as the woman soon found her wallet and paid.

"Thanks," she said, taking her son back from Tony. She moved the stroller a bit straighter and ran over Tony's foot as she did so. "Oh, sorry," she said, "was that your foot?"

Tony smiled again and hoped that he wouldn't have a limp. He didn't look forward to telling Gibbs that he had to be on desk duty because he had ridden the bus to work. He tottered back to his seat where Martha and Joe were looking on approvingly.

"Good," said Martha, "Seya's looking after her."

Tony looked back down the bus and saw that a middle-aged woman in a beautiful sari was cooing over the baby in the stroller and talking to the young woman. Charlie was silent now he had been restored to his mother.

"I need to check my emails," said Tony in a voice which suggested he had seen too much of bus life in a short space of time.

Joe patted his shoulder understandingly and refrained from laughing.

NCISNCIS

Gibbs and McGee reached the front gate and saw what looked like a deputation waiting for them.

"Agent Gibbs," said Trevor, "this is Mr Josephs and … and his … friends. They were asking after Tony."

"Call me Joe," said the elderly man as he held out his hand to Gibbs and McGee.

"I'm Special Agent Jethro Gibbs, Joe. This is Special Agent Tim McGee. How can we help you?"

"You know Tony?" asked Joe, "Oh. Oh, that's not good."

"How do you know Tony?" asked Gibbs.

"I met him on the bus," said Joe.

"And the rest of you?" asked Tim.

"Oh, yes. We all ride the bus. Not everyone every day, of course. Martha there, she rides most days. But not Mondays because she stays over with her daughter on Sunday night. Douglas, he's there Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays because he has classes those days."

"And every other Friday," said an earnest young man.

"That's right," agreed Joe.

"In term time," Douglas added, "I don't ride the bus in vacation."

"No," said Joe. He paused in case Douglas wanted to add anything but then continued, "And that's Julia. She rides most days. But she's got a new job starting next week, so she'll be moving to another route." He sighed and looked sad at this thought, "but, it's good for her," he added, "the pay's better and it's nearer her apartment."

Gibbs realised this was going to take some time.

"Why don't we go into the coffee shop? It's cold to stand around out here. You can tell me what you want to know."

The passengers obediently followed Gibbs into the coffee shop and found seats in the window. McGee was dispatched to get drinks for everyone. Charlie wriggled in Julia's arms and she let him down. The toddler looked round and then marched towards Gibbs with his arms outstretched. Tim returned from placing the order in time to see Gibbs placing Charlie on his lap with a look that dared McGee to make any comment.

Julia laughed, "That's better than the first time Tony picked him up. He screamed blue murder. Charlie, I mean, not Tony."

"I think Tony wanted to," said an elderly woman as she got out her knitting needles and a ball of grey-green yarn.

"I thought it might scare him off the bus for good," said Joe, "his face was a picture when Charlie bellowed in his ear."

"And when Julia rolled the stroller over his foot," said Martha.

"I felt awful when I realised," said Julia.

"Don't worry, honey," said Martha, "and he really likes Charlie now."

"And Charlie  _loves_  Tony now. Especially when he sings 'Wheels on the bus' for him."

The passengers heaved a collective sigh. Gibbs took advantage of the lull in the conversation to say,

"But Tony did come back?"

"Yes," said Joe, "and that's why we're worried now."

 


	3. Chapter 3

The MCRT caught a case early the next day and McGee gave Tony a lift to the crime scene. An early start and late finish to the day were the only difficult things about the case and it was soon wrapped up meaning that Tony was back on the usual bus the day after.

Joe was at the bus stop.

"Missed you, yesterday," he said, "thought you might have gone and bought that new car."

"No," said Tony, "got called in early to work."

"Good," said Joe, "we thought we might have lost you."

Tony smothered a yawn and shook his head, "still looking for a car. So you've got me for a while yet."

The bus arrived and Tony and Joe got on. Tony wasn't sure what to think when the passengers rearranged themselves so that Tony and Joe could sit together. Martha was sitting across the aisle and leaned over,

"You look tired, Tony. I know dating is your hobby but you still need to get some rest, you know."

Joe chipped in before Tony could defend himself, "he had an early start yesterday. Got called into work. I expect you had a long day?"

"Yes," said Tony as he remembered an hour of bagging and tagging followed by hours of canvassing the neighbourhood before getting to the paperwork. "We're a man down; well, a woman actually."

"What's your job?" asked Joe. "I mean, what do you do?"

Tony didn't tell people that he was a Federal Agent so he just said, "Whatever my Boss tells me to."

"I know how that feels," said Joe, "I've had a few bosses I was glad to see the back of."

Martha chuckled; saving Tony from having to decide whether or not to stand up for Gibbs. "So says the man who's still working!"

Tony looked at Joe in surprise, "you still work? I thought you said you  _were_  a tailor. I thought that meant you'd retired."

"You are a sharp one, aren't you?" said Joe. "I wouldn't call what I do now,  _tailoring_. I don't make anything but I've got a few clients who like me to look after their clothes."

"Tell him what else you do," said Martha. Joe remained uncharacteristically silent so Martha carried on, "he helps out at a halfway house. Fixes up donated clothes and alters them so they fit."

Joe shrugged, "what can I say? I'm addicted to clothes! Which reminds me, I noticed something the other day."

"What?" asked Tony.

"The button on your coat sleeve is hanging off. Don't want to lose it."

"Oh," said Tony, "thanks, I hadn't noticed. I'll do something about it."

"I'll fix it now," said Joe and before Tony could say anything, he whipped a small wallet out of an inside pocket and opened it to reveal a sewing kit. Tony was mesmerised into holding out his arm; it might have been easier to have taken his coat off but he didn't want to risk anyone seeing his weapon in the shoulder holster. Joe seemed unperturbed by the swinging of the bus and had the button reattached in a matter of seconds.

"Thanks, Joe," said Tony as he admired the work and tried to think how long it would have taken him to sew the button back on; always assuming he'd been able to find a needle and thread. He couldn't help but feel a warm glow that someone had just done something nice for him without being cajoled or tricked into it.

"No problem," said Joe, patting the sleeve affectionately, "that's a nice coat. What is it? Five years, six years old? Aquascutum?"

Tony nodded. "You've got a good eye," he said, thinking how relaxing it was to meet someone who appreciated clothes.

"If you two can stop drooling over Tony's coat," said Martha, "I want to ask Tony something."

Joe and Tony turned twin looks of hurt on Martha who laughed,

"What? You're like two girls fussing and bothering there!"

"I just appreciate the finer things in life," said Joe, but it was clear this was an old disagreement and there was no heat in his words.

"What do you want to ask?" asked Tony.

"Your car, what happened to it?"

"It was in a smash," said Tony, rubbing his nose as the painful memory returned. "Totalled."

"Your insurance will pay out though?" said the practical Martha.

Tony winced, "it's a bit awkward."

"Why?" asked Joe.

"Uh, I haven't got too good of a record with cars," Tony admitted.

"Are you a bad driver?" asked Martha.

"No! I am an excellent driver. Especially in comparison with some people I know. I'm just  _unlucky_."

"How unlucky?" asked an intrigued Joe, "how many cars?"

"One or two. Well, two or three."

"What happened?" asked Martha, dropping a stitch in her excitement.

"One was stolen," said Tony, "and …"

"And …?" breathed Martha.

"And then it got smashed up in a police chase."

"Badly?" asked Joe.

"You could say that, but it was the gas tank exploding that finished it off."

"Wow," said Joe, "you said one or two …"

"He said two or three," said Martha, "go on. What happened to the other one?"

"It blew …" Tony paused, thinking of another way of telling the story of the explosion, "the engine blew up." Which was true, he reasoned; it was just that everything else blew up at the same time.

"Were you in any of these cars when they got …" Martha searched for the tactful word, "destroyed?"

"Only once," said Tony.

"That's good," said a shaken Joe, "I was beginning to think it was dangerous for us to stay on the bus with you!"

"Perhaps you're safer on the bus, dear," said Martha consolingly and she patted Tony's arm. Tony smiled; two people patting his arm in one day. It made a change from a head slap. He got off the bus shortly afterwards so didn't see the worried looks that Joe and Martha exchanged.

NCISNCIS

Joe sipped the mug of tea, "of course. We didn't see Tony every day. Sometimes he had to go to work early but," he sighed, "he didn't seem to have many days off. Between you and me, I think his Boss is a bit of a slave driver."

"Yes?" asked Gibbs.

"Yes!" agreed McGee.

Joe looked puzzled at these responses, "but I guess, with a car to replace, he had to put the extra hours in."

"Yes," agreed Martha, "he did look tired sometimes. I worried about him," she knitted a few stitches quickly.

"He must have had money once," continued Joe.

"How'd you know?" asked Gibbs.

"His clothes," said Joe, "he had some really classy stuff. Beautiful suits. Good taste in ties …"

Martha sniffed, "like I said. Like two girls, they were."

Joe ignored her, "and even when he was dressed more casually, I could see that he wore designer jeans. And the shoes," he smiled, "Italian, you know."

"We know," said Gibbs with feeling.

"It was a pleasure to help him out a bit," said Joe.

"How did you help him out, Sir?" asked McGee.

"Only little things. Sewing on buttons. Mended a rip on a sleeve once."

McGee nodded, beginning to understand why Tony enjoyed riding the bus.

"Gave him some tips on getting stains out," continued Joe. "He got some doozies."

"Yes. We did wonder if he had to go looking for food in dumpsters," said Martha, "but he usually smelled clean, so we didn't think things had got that bad."

"Sounds as if you like Tony," said Gibbs, shifting Charlie so he could sit more comfortably.

"We do," agreed Martha, "there was something about him."

"What?" asked McGee.

"I don't quite know," she mused, "there was something in his eyes sometimes. A bit sad. And then, if he thought you'd noticed, he'd make a joke or give one of those big smiles."

"He seemed a bit lost sometimes," said Joe thoughtfully, "he was always surprised when one of us did something for him."

"I don't think he has anyone looking out for him," said Martha sadly.

"And it was obvious that he doesn't have much luck," said Joe practically. "Remember when he told us about the cars?"

Martha and the other passengers nodded.

"So I guess we were all on the lookout for something else to go wrong," said Joe.

"And we were right," said Martha.

 


	4. Chapter 4

A few more days of bus travel saw something of a landmark in Tony's travel history. Once again, the bus was crowded and there weren't two empty seats together but the passengers didn't rearrange themselves so Tony had to sit next to someone other than Joe. Tony was obviously now 'trusted' to fly solo.

Joe went to sit next to an elderly woman while Tony sat on the back seat. On one side sat an earnest young man who was absorbed in what was coming through his headphones; he reminded Tony of McGee and he wondered if, like Tim, he also was listening to a self-improvement CD. On the other side was Martha who began to show him pictures of her grandchildren.

"They look keen on sports," commented Tony, as he looked at a photo of two boys and a girl dressed in blue and yellow and holding a basketball each.

"Yes," said Martha fondly, "I wish they lived a bit nearer."

"Where do they live?"

"Michigan, but I'm lucky that my other daughter lives close by so I can't complain."

A horrible suspicion crossed Tony's mind, "They're not Wolverine fans, are they?"

"Fans? That's putting it mildly. Mac, my son-in-law is mad keen. He won't be happy unless at least one of his children goes to Michigan and play some sort of ball for them." She noticed a frown on Tony's face, "that's not a problem, is it?"

"No. Of course not."

"You're tall. I'm guessing you played sport?"

"Yep, football and basketball."

"Were you good?"

"Not bad. I thought of going pro."

"What happened? Why didn't you?"

"Bust my knee. Then got my leg broken."

Martha nodded. Somehow, this was what she had come to expect from Tony. "How did you break your leg?"

"In a match against Michigan," said Tony, "got tackled."

"No wonder you scowled when I mentioned Michigan," said Martha, "guess Wolverines aren't your favourite people."

"Oh, they're not all bad," said Tony fair-mindedly, "in fact I became friends with the one who broke my leg."

"How?"

"He was my doctor when I caught … um, when I was ill one time."

Martha nodded sadly, "Have you thought of parcelling yourself up in bubble wrap, dear?"

Tony smiled ruefully but, before he could reply, became aware of Joe talking to his own companion.

"Doreen? What's the matter? Doreen! Speak to me!"

Tony looked down the bus and saw that Joe was shaking the woman's shoulder. As he watched he saw her slump into Joe who sprang up in alarm.

"Doreen! She's fainted! She's ill! Help!"

Tony jumped up.

"Is there a doctor on the bus?" He was greeted by blank stares.

"Someone call 911!" he said firmly. He looked at the traffic outside and saw that they were stuck in a jam. An ambulance would take time to arrive. This was up to him. He checked Doreen quickly and realised that her heart had stopped beating.

"Help me get her on the floor," he ordered Joe.

And then he went to work.

The following day, Tony and Joe got a round of applause from the passengers when they boarded the bus. A manager from the bus company presented Tony with a Smartcard with a month's worth of trips and a photographer took a picture for the in-house magazine. Doreen's niece was there and gave him a hug and a bag of donuts and assured him that her aunt was doing well in hospital.

The earnest young man with the headphones told Tony that he was going to sign up for first aid classes after seeing Tony in action.

Martha and Joe beamed with pride but couldn't help but think it was unsurprising that the apparently accident prone Tony should be good at first aid.

NCISNCIS

"We enjoy having Tony on the bus," said Joe, "he's had a big impact on us."

"He has?" said McGee rather nervously, aware that the impact Tony had on people wasn't always for the sensitive or squeamish.

"Douglas there," said Martha, "he used to get on the bus and just shut himself into his own little world, listening to his music or whatever. Didn't you, Douglas?"

The earnest young man nodded.

"But now," said Martha, "he talks to us all the time. Don't you, Douglas?"

Douglas nodded. Gibbs began to wonder about Martha's definition of  _all the time_.

"About his first aid course. Don't you, Douglas?"

"Yes," finally managed Douglas.

"Right," said McGee, "good."

"I'm doing the first aid course because of Tony," blurted out Douglas.

"Right. Good," said McGee again. He resolved not to enquire why close acquaintance with Tony led to a burning desire to know about first aid. He hoped it wasn't because Tony had inflicted some sort of bodily harm on the young man. A sudden thought struck him and he leaned over to whisper in Gibbs' ear, "Boss. Are we sure they're talking about  _our_  Tony? Shouldn't we check?"

Gibbs nodded, "Good idea. You got a photo of him on you?" he whispered back.

Tim looked a bit affronted that Gibbs thought he might carry a picture of Tony around with him but he got his cell out to check. "The only one I've got is from that time we were both arrested. Not sure that would be a good one to show them."

Gibbs refrained from asking why McGee had a police mugshot of Tony on his phone but agreed with Tim that another picture would be better. He cleared his throat,

"Have you got a picture of Tony?" he asked.

He was surprised when all the passengers nodded. They rummaged in purses and wallets and produced the picture taken by the Metro photographer the day after Tony had saved Doreen.

"Do you often have photos taken on the bus?" asked Gibbs, thinking that bus travel had changed a lot since his bus days.

"That was a special occasion," said Joe, "that was the day after Tony brought Doreen back from the dead."

"What?" asked McGee.

"Doreen collapsed," said Joe, "we were all panicking but Tony was cool as a cucumber. Told us to call 911 and did CPR. He did it for about ten minutes. The ambulance crew said he saved her life."

"The company gave Tony a special free ticket," said Martha.

"And Lucy – that's Doreen's niece – gave him a bag of donuts," said Joe.

McGee thought back and remembered Tony arriving at work one day with a huge bag of donuts which, uncharacteristically, he had shared with everyone. When asked about this unusual display of largesse he had simply said that he hadn't had to pay for them. Now, Tim knew where the pastries had come from.

"They must have been really grateful," said Tim.

"Well, of course," said Joe as if it was obvious, "Tony saved Doreen's life. Of course they wanted to show how grateful they were. Wouldn't anyone?"

Tim couldn't help but look at Gibbs with a slight question in his eyes. Gibbs seemed momentarily stunned and, for the moment, was diverted from continuing to investigate the bus passengers' concerns about Tony.

 


	5. Chapter 5

The MCRT were on stakeout duty for a few days in a rundown warehouse district of Washington: this meant dressing scruffily so as to blend in with the workers of the area.

The jaws of the passengers dropped collectively when Tony boarded the bus wearing clothes from his 'stakeout' wardrobe. Tony shopped for these garments at rummage sales and thrift stores where he puzzled people by buying a mixture of smart designer castoffs and threadbare jeans, tees and sweaters.

Trying to ignore the shocked stares of Joe, Martha and the rest, Tony took a seat next to Seya who, ironically enough, was wearing a particularly beautiful salwar kameez in peacock blue and emerald green. Seya's eyes widened when she saw Tony's attire but was too polite to mention it although she was aware of fevered whispering going on between Joe and Martha.

"Uh, we're doing dress-down today at work," said Tony, feeling he needed to explain himself.

"I believe that is quite common now," said Seya placidly, "I am fortunate that there is no real dress code at the library where I work."

"That's good," said Tony, feeling like a peahen sitting next to a peacock. He wasn't used to being the worst dressed person in a group; he wondered how Gibbs coped with it on a daily basis.

"I am going to my yoga class after work," said Seya, feeling that she needed to continue the conversation. "And it is easier to wear this than my sari."

"You do yoga?" asked Tony although, now he knew, he could see where her poise and elegance came from.

"Yes. Are you interested in yoga?"

"I do a bit. You know; mind and body in harmony. Keeps the stress at bay."

"Excellent," said Seya.

"And it's good for the abdominal muscles," admitted Tony, "I try to keep the six-pack in shape."

"Ah," said Seya.

"But it's mostly for the mind/body harmony," said Tony hastily as he realised he had made a misstep, "you know, the spiritual bit. That's the most important part."

Seya smiled in acknowledgement, "That's what I do it for," she said gravely, "that and it keeps my tummy muscles flat."

Tony smiled at her as he realised they were in perfect accord.

Martha, Joe and Seya stayed on the bus longer than usual after Tony got off. They had plans to make.

Next day, the only seat available was next to Martha. Tony was wearing a particularly shabby pair of grey sweatpants and a blueish sweatshirt with a faded logo on it.

"Hi, Martha," said Tony resolutely ignoring her worried look, "hey, you've started some new knitting. What's it going to be?"

Martha looked at the grey-green yarn, "A sweater," she said briefly.

"Nice colour," said Tony.

Martha yawned.

"Up late last night?" asked Tony, "'cos you tell  _me_  off for that."

"Yes," said Martha, "my neighbours had their golden wedding anniversary party. You know the trouble for parties for elderly people?"

"No," said Tony truthfully. He hadn't been to many old peoples' parties.

"They always over cater," said Martha, "old people have small appetites, you know."

Tony thought of the gargantuan meals eaten by Ducky but decided not to disagree, "I'll bear that in mind if I have to organize one," he promised. He had a sudden picture of the outrage which would appear on Senior's face if he catered his birthday party on an economical scale; he hid a smile.

"What have you brought in your lunch box today?" asked Martha.

Tony was puzzled by this apparent non-sequitur, "um, nothing. I don't usually bring anything for my lunch."

"You should," said Martha earnestly, "you'll save lots of money. You'll be able to afford that replacement car sooner."

"OK," said Tony, "I'll bear that in mind as well."

"Tell you what," said Martha as she seemed to have an idea, "Don and Dinah gave me some of the food left over from last night. I can't eat it all, why don't you have it and save on lunch money?"

Before Tony could protest she handed him a plastic lunch box full of sandwiches. As he looked at it in shock, Martha handed him a bag of fruit. He looked suspicious,

"They had  _apples_  at a party?"

"Yes," said Martha firmly. She crossed her fingers and said, "Don used to be a greengrocer, can't have a party at his house without lots of fruit." She saw Tony wavering, "be a dear and take it, Tony. I don't know what to do with it and I'd hate it to go to waste." She turned big eyes on him,

"OK, thank you," said Tony trying not to think what Gibbs and McGee would think when he got out a perfectly packed lunch box later that day.

The days of the stakeout seemed to coincide with a social whirl among the bus passengers. The next day it turned out that Seya's family gathering had to be cancelled at short notice meaning that she had samosas, bhajis, masala vada, spiced rice and naan bread left over. The day after that, Joe had been to a tailors' reunion which, due to the universal failing of over catering for seniors, had an overabundance of sandwiches and fruit. And the day after that, Douglas' cousin, who was at cookery school, had been learning how to make different varieties of pies and tarts and, unaccountably, had made too many.

Tony became accustomed to being given a different lunch box each day and dined well although he didn't explain the source of his meals to Gibbs and McGee.

NCISNCIS

Charlie slithered off Gibbs' lap and went with Julia to the rest room. Meanwhile the other passengers continued their story.

"We were worried that he'd lost all his money," said Martha, "he had a week of wearing … well, rags really."

"We thought that perhaps he'd been gambling," said Seya, "although as a practitioner of yoga, it seemed unlikely."

"But he could have been in the hands of loan sharks," said Joe, "we just didn't know what to think."

"I don't think many firms would have that many dress down days," said Douglas who seemed to have lost his shyness.

Gibbs and McGee found their minds reeling at the inventiveness of Tony's bus people.

"But we managed to keep him supplied with food," said Martha thoughtfully, "and that seemed to help."

A mystery was solved for Gibbs and McGee; they now knew the source of Tony's delicious packed lunches.

"And then, it was back to normal," said Joe, "he said the dress down days were over but we think he'd got his clothes back from the pawn shop."

"Porn shop?" said McGee, surprised by their broadmindedness.

"P-A-W-N, pawn shop" spelled out Joe.

"Oh," said McGee, relieved.

"But then," said Seya, "it all went wrong again."

"How so?" asked Gibbs.

"He told us he'd be gone for a couple of days," said Joe.

"But?" asked Gibbs.

"But he's been gone for a week."

"Well …" began Gibbs.

"And then my cousin. Not the one who's at cookery school …" said Douglas.

"I don't think we knew that you had a cousin at cookery school," said McGee wanting to be precise.

"Yes," said Douglas, "he's the one who made the extra pies for me to give Tony," he stopped realising he had lost the thread of what he was saying.

"So your other cousin …" prompted Gibbs.

"Oh, yes. My other cousin, Jack. Not my cookery school cousin, that's Sam. Jack, he works at one of the Court buildings and he saw Tony going into court."

"So now," said Martha, "we worry that he's been accused of something."

"So we're here to help," said Joe.

"With an alibi?" said Gibbs.

"Yes," said Martha.

"But you don't know what he's charged with," pointed out McGee.

"Oh," said Joe, "well, if we knew what he was charged with then perhaps we  _could_  give him an alibi."

"Or a character witness," said Martha hopefully, "that would help, wouldn't it?"

"It would be an offence to give an alibi untruthfully," said McGee.

"We just want to help Tony," said Seya.

For the first time, Joe looked a bit suspicious, "I'm not sure we should tell Agents Gibbs and McGee anything else. It seems to me that we've told them a lot about Tony but they haven't told us anything."

"That's true," said Douglas who may have been watching too many police shows, "they might be gathering intel against him."

"Do you  _know_ Tony?" asked Martha.

"Yes," said Gibbs and McGee in unison.

"How?" asked Joe, "you said you're federal agents. Doesn't seem to me that you knowing Tony is good news for him."

"What agency do you work for?" asked Seya.

"NCIS," said Gibbs showing them his badge and credentials.

"What's that?" asked Martha.

"Naval Criminal Investigative Service," said McGee, "we investigate the Navy."

"Tony isn't a sailor," said Martha, "is he?"

"NCIS," said Joe thoughtfully, "hey, that's what Tony has written on his backpack. I thought it was a designer logo."

Gibbs decided to bring things to a conclusion, "Tony works for me. He's my Senior Agent."

"Tony's a  _fed_?" breathed Douglas, "Wow!"

"When he was  _dressing down_  he was on stake out with us," explained McGee.

"So he hadn't pawned his clothes?" asked Martha.

"No," said Gibbs.

"So he's not poor?" asked Joe.

"No," said McGee.

"Then why hasn't he bought a car?" asked Seya.

"Um, he needs to  _connect_  with a car," explained Tim, "he just hasn't found the right one yet."

"And the court? Why was he in court?" asked Douglas.

"He's a witness," said Gibbs, "the case took longer than we thought. Should have been a day; two at most, but it's dragging on."

"Oh dear," said Martha, "it looks as if we've got the wrong end of the stick."

Gibbs and McGee nodded. The bus passengers looked at one another in disbelief and then burst out laughing. When they finally stopped, Joe said,

"I'm sorry, Agent Gibbs. You must think we're very foolish."

"Not at all," said Gibbs politely, "it's good to know that Tony's got so many people … er … looking out for him."

They all began to gather their things together in preparation for leaving. Julia came back with Charlie in tow,

"I heard you all laughing," she said, "what was so funny?"

Joe looked sheepish, "Agent Gibbs here is Tony's boss."

"Boss?" said Julia, "Tony works for Agent Gibbs?"

"He's my Senior Field Agent," Gibbs informed her.

"Yes, so when we thought Tony had pawned his clothes, he was actually on stake out," explained Martha.

"So, where's he been the last few days?" asked Julia.

"In court," said Martha and then hastily added, "as a witness."

"The case has gone on longer than expected," said McGee, "that's why he couldn't let you know where he was."

"Oh," said Julia, "well, I suppose that explains it. Come on, Charlie." She got to the door of the coffee shop and turned back,

"So I shouldn't worry about what I saw this morning?"

"What was that?" asked Gibbs absently as he smiled and waved goodbye to Charlie.

"My bus went past the courthouse. I saw Tony getting into a car with two men in dark glasses. He didn't look very happy but I guess it was to do with the case."

Gibbs tensed, "he wasn't supposed to be going anywhere other than the court building. Are you sure it was him?"

"Yes," said Julia, "Charlie got quite excited. He waved to Tony, started singing  _Wheels on the Bus_  to him."

"McGee!" ordered Gibbs, "put out a BOLO on Tony. Now!"

 


	6. Chapter 6

McGee took as much detail as possible from Julia about what she had seen when Tony had got into the car; then he and Gibbs ran back to the squad room.

"Men in black," panted McGee, "you don't think it was Agent Fornell, do you?"

Gibbs looked doubtful, "check when we get back."

"Or car salesmen?" said McGee, "perhaps Tony's finally ready to commit?"

"Julia said he didn't look happy," said Gibbs, "if it was about a car, wouldn't he look cheerful?"

"Must be the FBI then," said Tim, determined to be optimistic. He thought again, perhaps the FBI wouldn't be an optimistic option, "Fornell wouldn't be charging Tony with murder again, would he?"

"Better not be," said Gibbs grimly, "not if he knows what's good for him."

"You wouldn't shoot Agent Fornell, would you, Boss?"

"Nope. I'd set Tony's bus friends on him."

Knowing almost the exact time that Tony had disappeared made finding the incident on CCTV relatively easy and it became clear that the FBI were, this time, in the clear. Tony's cell had been disabled in some way but using the traffic cameras Tim and Abby were able to track the movements of the kidnappers' car through the city. They were also able to identify the two men in dark sunglasses as 'associates' of the defendant, John Michaelson, in the trial at which Tony was a witness.

Tim, Vance and Gibbs stood in front of the plasma screen in the squad room.

"The car went into this area, Laurel Town, about 10.30," said Tim, "but we haven't been able to tap into cameras in that neighbourhood."

"Why not?" asked the Director.

"Nothing worth protecting there," said Gibbs, "it's just old factories and run down housing. It's waiting to be redeveloped but it's held up."

"We caught the car coming out again an hour later," said Tim, bringing up the picture.

"Can you see who's in the car?" asked Vance.

"No," said McGee, "dark windows. Can't see inside. We've got a BOLO out on the car and on the two men."

"What you think, Gibbs?" said Leon.

"That they've dumped Tony somewhere. They hadn't stopped anywhere for long before. I don't think they stopped in Laurel Town to do shopping and get their nails done."

Leon decided not to ask whether Gibbs thought Tony had been dumped dead or alive, "big area to search," he said.

"McGee, any of those properties owned by Michaelson?"

"Good thought," approved Vance. Michaelson was on trial, for among other things, a pensions scam targeting Navy veterans. One of his frauds had been misleading investors into the potential of the redevelopment in Laurel Town.

"On it, Boss," said Tim, as he hurried back to his desk. "Um, he owns three houses, a warehouse, a factory building and three storage sheds."

"OK," said Gibbs decisively, "we'll search all of them."

"I'll contact Metro PD and the FBI," said Vance, "ask them to assist. I'll co-ordinate from here and get the search warrants." Privately, he realised that Gibbs wouldn't wait for that formality but he decided not to enquire about that, "Where do you want to start, Gibbs?"

Gibbs gazed at the list of addresses Tim had brought up but his gut was silent.

"We'll start with those storage sheds. They're close together. Then we'll go to the factory."

Night was falling as NCIS, the FBI and Metro PD closed in on the warehouse, the final building to be searched. Tension had risen during the day as the searches had proved fruitless and now, although the thoughts were left unsaid, they were wondering if Gibbs' theory had been wrong and they had been looking in the wrong place.

Tim and Gibbs took the top storey which consisted of a number of lockable storage units.

"Someone's been here, Boss," said McGee, as he pointed to a series of footprints on the dusty floor.

Gibbs breathed a bit easier as it looked as if they had come to the right place at last. And so it proved, the footprints led to a unit with a new padlock on the door. Gibbs wasted no time on picking the lock but just shot it off. He kicked the door open and he and McGee entered cautiously.

"Hey, Boss, McStBernard," came a tired voice from the corner of the room, "glad you could make it."

McGee spoke through his earwig to let the others know they had found Tony while Gibbs went to check on him. He was handcuffed to a chain attached to a sturdy ring embedded in the concrete floor.

"You all right, DiNozzo?" asked Gibbs as he examined the chain and handcuff.

"Better now," said Tony, "I don't think the bad guys were planning to come back any time soon. A bit too squeamish to shoot me but didn't mind leaving me to starve."

"Or give you a black eye," observed McGee.

"Oh, yeah. I didn't exactly make it easy for my  _friends_ to chain me up," admitted Tony.

"Good thing you've got other friends," said Gibbs cryptically.

Tony was a bit puzzled at Gibbs talking about himself as his friend but was too weary to query it, "must admit. Didn't expect to see you here so soon, Boss. Your gut working overtime, was it?"

"Not mine," said Gibbs, continuing to be evasive, "let's get you out of here."

NCISNCIS

About twenty four hours after first meeting him, Joe got a call from Gibbs,

"We found Tony. We'll be at the coffee shop in an hour if you want to be there."

"We'll be there," said Joe firmly.

Ducky gave Tony a quick check up and declared that he was just in need of sleep, food and hydration and that the bumps and bruises, though painful, needed no special treatment. He had been lucky. By the time Ducky had made his diagnosis it seemed too late to go home so the team had spent what was left of the night at the Navy Yard managing to snatch a couple of hours sleep.

"Come on, DiNozzo," said Gibbs the next morning, "I'll drive you home."

Tony smiled at the thought of soon being home. With Gibbs driving, he didn't anticipate a long journey so he was a bit put out when Gibbs pulled into the coffee shop carpark.

"Going for coffee," he announced. "You too," he added, when it looked as if Tony was going to stay where he was. Muttering under his breath about Gibbs' odd behaviour, Tony took the line of least resistance and followed him. He was even more surprised when Gibbs didn't get the coffee to go but placed an order for both of them and went to sit at a large table in the window.

"Er, Boss? What's going on?"

Gibbs nodded towards the bus stop. "Some friends want to say hello."

Moments later, the bus passengers flooded into the coffee shop followed by McGee. Charlie couldn't decide whether to go to Gibbs or Tony but, as it was a long time since he had seen Tony, finally went to him.

"Um. What's happening?" said Tony even as he lifted Charlie to sit on his knee.

Remembering how long the bus people had taken to come to the point the previous day, Gibbs decided to take charge of the explanations.

"We're very sorry," said Martha once Gibbs had brought Tony up to speed.

"Sorry?" said Tony, "what are you sorry for?"

"Well," said Joe, "for thinking that you'd done something foolish with your money."

"But you tried to look after me," said Tony, "at least, I guess that's why you all had those failed dinner parties and things?"

Seya nodded, "we couldn't think how to give you new clothes," she said, "So food had to do. But we were relieved when you started wearing your other clothes again. We were running out of ideas to explain why we had left over food!" She looked embarrassed for a moment and then handed Tony a box, "I know you don't need this, but I made you a curry. I thought you might not want to cook today and you seemed to like the Indian food before."

Tony smiled his thanks.

Joe stared at Tony's suit, "that's a very nice suit, haven't seen that one before."

"It's my court suit," said Tony, "specially selected to say  _here's an honest, hardworking, clean-living, dedicated public servant."_

Tim stifled a laugh. Martha looked at him with concern and handed him a cough drop.

"Oh, no," said Tim, "that's OK. I haven't got a cough …" he trailed off as he encountered Martha's stare, "thank you. Thank you very much." He coughed, unwrapped the candy and popped it in his mouth.

Joe ignored the interruption, "A good choice. Clothes have a language all of their own. It's important." He looked briefly at Gibbs' jacket and it looked as if he might have said something about what  _it_  said but instead, after looking with pain at the dust and grime on the precious suit, he said to Tony, "Take the jacket off. I'll tidy it up a bit."

Tony passed Charlie to Gibbs so he could take his jacket off. Joe took a small sponge and a clothes brush out of the opposite pocket to the one he kept his sewing kit in and began work. Tony shivered without the jacket on; he hadn't felt warm since spending the day in the unheated warehouse. Martha noticed and took a package out of her shopping bag,

"Put this on," she said.

Tony opened the parcel to reveal a sweater made out of grey-green yarn.

"This is what you've been knitting the last few weeks," he said, "it's beautiful!" And it was. Almost a work of art with its intricate, pleasing design.

"I thought the colour would bring out your eyes," said Martha, "and Joe approved it all so you fashionistas can be happy about it."

"It fits!" said Tony in delight as he put it on.

"Joe's got a good eye for measurements," said Martha, pleased with Tony's reaction and pleased to notice that she had been right about the colour looking good on him. She was even more pleased when Tony kissed her on the cheek in thanks.

The conversation became general as the passengers brought Tony up to date with the bus happenings he had missed over the last week or so. Douglas confessed he had thought of applying to become a police officer when he had found out that Tony was a federal agent but it was clear that seeing the bruise blossoming on Tony's face was making him think again. Tony kindly steered him towards Tim for advice on other jobs available in police forces and federal agencies.

After a few minutes, however, it was clear that the federal agents were flagging from lack of sleep and that the passengers had to continue their journeys so they all got up to go.

"See you on the bus tomorrow, Tony?" the passengers asked.

"You bet!" said Tony, "and thank you!"

NCISNCIS

Gibbs drew up outside Tony's apartment.

"Thanks, Boss, see you tomorrow," said Tony as he prepared to get out.

"When are you going to tell them?" asked Gibbs.

"Tell them what?" asked Tony, pausing with his hand on the door.

"That you bought another car last month?"

"Oh," said Tony, "Well, you know … well, it turns out … it turns out that I like riding the bus!"

"See you tomorrow, DiNozzo," said Gibbs with a smile.


	7. Epilogue

Gibbs returned to the squad room later in the day to catch up on some paperwork. He was thinking about leaving for the day when he got a phone call.

"Front gate here, Special Agent Gibbs. Trevor Webb."

"Trev."

"Um. A load of passengers just got off a bus."

"Yes?"

"Yeah. They're worried about Agent DiNozzo. Seems he catches their bus home in the evening and they haven't seen him for a while. They wonder if he's in trouble and needs any help …"

"On my way, Trev. On my way," smiled Gibbs.

Later that evening, as Gibbs drove home he found himself singing a new verse to  _Wheels on the Bus_ :

_The people on the bus, they care for him,_

_Care for him, care for him,_

_The people on the bus, they care for him, all through the town._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps one day I'll write the story of the Night Bus people!


End file.
